


a heart leaking something so strong, they can smell it in the streets

by siximpossiblethings



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Basically everyone is happy tbh, Cute, Cutesy, Dinner, F/M, Fluff, Food, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1224748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siximpossiblethings/pseuds/siximpossiblethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She’s a relatively reserved woman. However, Alana finds that she best expresses herself when she’s in front of the stove and with a beer in her free hand." An Everyone-Is-Actually-Happy-and-Nothing-Hurt-Kind-of-AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	a heart leaking something so strong, they can smell it in the streets

**Author's Note:**

> i'm horribly sorry if this sucks; this is the first time i've ever written hannibal fic!!! very much au, considering everyone is, you know, actually happy. sweet, fluffy, and to the point. enjoy!!!

When it comes to making dinner, Alana tends to take charge. Normally on Friday nights, with whatever music she finds enjoyable at that moment playing, she’ll cook up something that’s most likely far too wild for Will to even think about toying with.

She’s a relatively reserved woman. However, Alana finds that she best expresses herself when she’s in front of the stove and with a beer in her free hand.

Before she came along, Will’s diet mainly consisted of mediocre cooked pastas or whatever else he picked up at the grocery store. Now, it’s safe to say that his palette has been exposed to Vietnamese-Turkish fused dishes and Guatemalan recipes. He likes them for the most part. What Will likes best about Alana’s cooking, though, is watching her do it.

He hears her hum along to the song that’s playing. He smiles, able to tell from the small buzzing coming from her mouth that she has an awful voice. It’s endearing, though. He chuckles in spite of himself.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, peering at him from over her shoulder.

“Your humming,” he says. From where he’s sitting, he can see her out of the corner of his eye. “It’s in need of practice.”

Even from where he is, he can see her eye roll. She puts her beer bottle down on the counter and makes her way over to his chair. Alana gently seats herself on his lap. She’s careful with her movements; she knows that Will is comfortable with her, but she’s always been wary of where her boundaries begin and end.

“I’m that bad, huh?” she teases, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“That… accurately describes, I’d say.” Will picks his words carefully, like a fine jeweler does gems and metals. His arm snakes its way around her waist. They’ve spent many an evening like this. Will is picky about who he gets close to, literally and figuratively. Alana has never given him a reason to be picky, though.

He twists his head to kiss her, a soft and closemouthed meeting of the lips. Alana is all gentle dips and curves and Will knows she won’t suddenly turn hard. He finds comfort in that.

He can feel her smile before she breaks away. She returns to the crook of his neck, nuzzled between Will’s collarbone and neck. The smell of warm Middle Eastern spices (baharat, if he’s correct) fills the room. Will listens to Alana’s breathing, something much more soothing than whatever music she could ever play.


End file.
